


Birds Can Keep Secrets

by Curse_my_sarcastic_nature



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is our lord and saviour, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick joins the LoA, Gen, I think I’ll keep it gen, I will be adding other relationships!!!, I’ll add more tags as I go, League of Assassins - Freeform, Once I actually get around to writing the characters though, Selina Kyle is Catwoman, Selina is a catmom, Vigilante, expect a lot, idk if there’ll be ships tho, maybe timkon, we’ll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28337649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curse_my_sarcastic_nature/pseuds/Curse_my_sarcastic_nature
Summary: “Whatcha looking at, B?” Dick asked.“Hmm? Oh, the cops say there’s a child on the streets fighting crime.”Dick nodded, trying and failing to look uninterested.“It says that he’s calling himself ‘Robin’.”Dick choked on his food, coughing loud and hard.“Woah Dick, you okay there chum?”“Yeah, I’m fine.”***What if Batman never existed, but Bruce still had an adopting problem and all of his children still went on to become vigilantes?
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Talia al Ghul & Dick Grayson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 80
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts





	1. Chapter 1

Dick pulled on his circus uniform and flipped through the house, jumping over pieces of furniture, darting through the shadows. It was reminiscent of his days in the circus, days that had been brutally ended not even a fortnight ago. He pushed open the door to the nice-man-Bruce’s study and goes to the locked draw.

When he was seven, Laila, a performer from another circus and him crossed paths. She was four years older than him but neither of them cared, both willing to be friends. She and him had caused lots of mischief, during which she had taught him how to pick locks.

He fiddled with the locked draw, moving the clip around. His tongue wiggled out and he puffed a breath of excitement when the draw opened. He pulled his bright yellow cape up and tucked away a gun in what was supposed to be a pocket for snacks.

His feet made no sound as he exited the window and darted across the lawns. As he moved towards the large, ominous metal gates Dick paused to wipe his legs of the droplets of dew clinging onto him from the grass.

He then heaved himself over the gates, carefully avoiding the sharp spikes at the top. One of them grazed his leg but Dick ignored it. He jumped down from the gates, rolling to soften his landing. From then on he followed a path led that led to the city, much shorter than the windy twisty drive.

His pixie boots softly padded along the ground. They were more protective than they looked, the soles thick but also flexible. Perfect for acrobats.

Once he reached the city, he took a few bounding leaps before jumping up onto the window sill, using that one and the ones above it to pull himself up onto the roof. Dick surveyed the city.

Time to find Zucco.

He ran across the rooftops, using flips and run ups to propel himself over the bigger gaps, before realising he had no idea where he was going.

A voice came from behind him. “What’s a kid so young doing out here? So late at night as well?”

Dick turned to look at the person, his cape whirling out dramatically behind him. The lady was wearing a tight black leather suit, fitted with pointy cat ears on her cowl. Her eyes were covered by a yellow tinted goggles and she had a slick bullwhip tacked onto her side.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And wearing a costume like that?”

“Do you know where to find Mr Tony Zucco?”

“Why are you asking, kid?”

“If you know where he is, can you please tell me? Pretty please?”

The catlady sighed. “Why do you need Zucco, kitten?”

“Just please miss catlady.”

The catlady laughed at that. “I’m Catwoman, thank you very much. And I suppose I can take you there. If you can keep up, that is.”

Dick kept up.

They flitted across rooftops, swinging on washing lines that really shouldn’t be able to hold as many clothes as they did. A peg jabbed Dick’s hand and he was not happy about that.

They arrived at a building that was emitting brightly coloured lights and a very loud sound. The roof and the ones around it vibrated with the sound waves from the music. Catwoman pointed down to a window.

“He should be in there if you look. You gonna tell me why you need him? I can’t let you do work for him, he’s a bad man.”

Dick turned to look up at her. “I know. He killed my parents.”

He pulled the gun from the hidden pocket and she watched, her face darkening.

“He orphaned you?”

Dick nodded.

“Go make that monster pay,” she hissed.

Dick nodded and made his way down the side of the building, only to leap into the window Catwoman had directed him to.

He landed right on a table, men seated around him. They all yelled with surprise at his sudden appearance. The table was adorned with plates of crackers, fruits, cups, and a large bowl of a deep purple punch.

He tilted his head.

“Are you Mister Zucco?” He asked the one in the middle. The man stood up.

“Yeah why, who’s asking? If ya work for Falcone, tell him his money’s coming soon, I got one more job for my men.”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“You killed my family,” he spat viciously. The man smirked and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by two loud bangs and a bullet entering each of his knees.

Dick was a good shot, having been taught by a marksman at the circus who worked at a paint game. He taught and gave examples to customers, teaching them how to shoot. He had showed Dick for free a few months before the he had left.

The man let a high pitched scream. Dick dropped the gun in the bowl of punch and was out the window before Zucco’s guards has even reacted. He grinned, his eyes alight with a fire that hadn’t been there since his parents death a couple of weeks ago. Revenge had never been sweeter. He pulled himself up to where Catwoman was still waiting for him. She looked at him with a grim looks on her face.

“Did you do it?” She asked.

Dick grinned at her. ”I shot him in both knees.”

Catwoman laughed and patted his back. “I could hear his screams.”

She jumped across the rooftops and Dick followed her. They both sat down on a ledge at the ledge of an abandoned building.

“How’d he do it?” She interrupted the silence softly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Dick stared ahead. He remembered the sickening claps of their bodies hitting the ground, their inside splayed out for anyone to see. The image was forever scarred on the inside if his eyelids.

“One of his men shot the trapeze they were on. They fell and died.”

The woman next to him stiffened. “I heard about that on the news. You’re that Richard Grayson kid, taken in by Bruce Wayne.”

“Dick Grayson.”

“You shouldn’t be telling people that. If someone recognized you, they would have taken you as a hostage.”

“I was fine though.”

Catwoman hummed, then turned to look at him. “I need to move on. I was planning to ro- visit a museum tonight and I need to be fast if I’m going to make it before sunrise. If you need me, come find me. Or rather I’ll just come find you, in those bright traffic light colours.”

Dick giggled for the first time since his parents had died. Catwoman pulled one of her gloves off. She licked her finger and wiped a splatter of blood off his cheek. Dick felt a lump in his throat and tears building up behind his eyes, because that was just what his mama used to do.

Catwoman stood up and Dick made his way back to the big empty building he would one day call home. He washed his costume in warm water like his mama showed him how, letting the blood and grime soak out of it, before having a quick shower of his own. He then sat down in the middle of his too-big bed in his too-big, lonely bedroom and cried.

* * *

Two days later Dick snuck out again. Under the cover of darkness he made his way back into the town. It was lonely in the manor. Alfred was busy doing jobs and Bruce had a company to run. Add that up with the fact that both of them had lost the ability to interact with children (or never had it in the first place), Dick hardly saw anyone.

Dick had grown up in the circus where there was always someone around. Someone with interesting stories or interesting skills, things to teach him. On one of the days off his parent had slept in and he was babysat by a fire-eater. Dick can now proudly say he can eat fire.

He wanted to Catwoman again, wanted to be happy again. She had made him laugh. He waited on one of the filthy rooftops and a voice spoke from the shadows.

“Well, if it isn’t the little kitten? Back so soon?”

Dick shrugged. “I was bored.”

She looked at him disbelievingly. “You were bored, so you came out in the middle of the night? In Gotham of all places?”

“Yeah, no one will play with me,” he whined. “It’s lonely over there.”

“Well-“ she was interrupted by shouting down below.

A man and woman had cornered a child in the alley behind them. Dick watched with fear as the lady pulled out a hammer and rope.

He didn’t mean to, just acted in instinct. He was not about to let a child younger than he was get hurt. He jumped down from the building, landing on the man’s back and knocking him to the ground.

The woman’s fist raced to meet his head but he did a forward roll to the right. The hammer she gripped on tightly to was bluntly hurled forward and he felt it skim against his forehead, but the adrenaline racing through his body caused him to hardly notice it. His tati’s voice echoed through his head _‘-then use your momentum to swing-’_ he grabbed onto a rusty metal railing and propelled himself forward, his feet smashing straight at the woman’s stomach. She lurched backwards with an oof.

‘ _Fly, my little Robin,_ ’ his mama’s voicesaid as he grabbed the child and pulled her up onto the balcony. The two attackers looked up at him with fear. He was half hidden in the shadows, his cape whirling around him reflecting the moonlight and seemingly glowing.

“Leave the children alone!” He hissed at them. A drop of blood dripped the side of his face, trailing over his eyelid and past his lips.

“ _What are you?_ ” The man cried.

“I’m Robin!” He grinned. The blood stained his teeth red and it welled up in his mouth. He spat it down on the ground, because Dick hated the metallic taste of blood.

The woman wailed with terror and ran from the alleyway, the man right behind. The child in his arms looked up at him with awe and frightfulness.

“Put me down!” She cried.“I want mummy, put me down put me down put me down!” 

Dick was a taken back and looked at her in shock. “Why are you so loud?”

“Mummy!” The child yelled. Dick carefully held onto the child and climbed back down to the ground. A woman raced into the alley, her hands open wide and sobbing. She picked up the child in her arms and murmured into her hair.

She then turned to look at Dick. “What did you-“ she started to snap.

He quickly cut her off. “No, I saved her!”

A loud thump came from where Catwoman had landed on the escape exit above them.

“Believe him,” she drawled. “I saw it.”

She delicately maneuvered her whip so it flicked past the mother’s cheek and draped herself over the railing. “Run along now honey, your daughter may need some lessons in politeness.”

The woman’s eyes widened at the thief and she hurried out of the alleyway, tightly clutching her daughter.

Catwoman dropped down beside him. “You shouldn’t have done that. Now other bad people will be on the lookout for a kid in a costume like yours who goes by Robin. It’ll be harder for you to get around the city.”

“I don’t care. I wasn’t going to let her get hurt.” Blood seeped through his lips as he opened his mouth and he wrinkled his nose. The sting of the cut was starting to register. The hammer had peeled away layers of skin when it had skimmed his forehead, and he was now bleeding sluggishly.

Catwoman sighed and pulled out some medical supplies, from where Dick had no idea. She cleaned the wound tenderly. “You’re lucky it’s shallow. Get someone professional to look at it, would you? And get something to hide your identity, you’re already famous enough.”

“Okay, Catwoman. But I’m going to come see you again.”

Catwoman gave him an exasperated look.

Once he was back at the manor he wrinkled his nose at the blood stained costume. He had only left the manor twice, yet both times he had managed to get blood all over it. A cough came from outside his door. Dick’s eyes widened and he shoved his costume under the bed.

“Yes?” He called, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Alfred carefully opened the door and stepped into the room. His face portrayed no emotion yet Dick felt he was under a scrutinising gaze.

“You are back from your nightly activities?”

Dick spluttered. “I- Huh- What?”

“You have left the manor twice in the past three nights. Just because Master Bruce is incapable of noticing such things does not mean that I am not.”

“Well, um, yeah I guess.”

“May I ask what it was you entailed in?”

“Huh?”

“What did you do?”

“Oh. You probably don’t want to know.”

“I assure you, Master Dick, it is in both yours and my best interest that I know.”

“Okay, I shot my parents killer, met a catlady and saved a kid.”

Alfred barely reacted to the words. A small raise of the eyebrow in worry and a hidden smirk behind his lips. “And I am correct to presume your costume is filthy?”

“Um... yeah.”

“Would you kindly allow me to wash it for you?”

Dick sighed with relief at this. There was no way he would have been able to keep up with washing his costume. “Yes please!”

He turned around and pulled it out from under the bed.

“I also forbid you to leave the manor at night.”

“What? Why?!”

“You may not have realized yet, but Gotham is a very dangerous place, more so at night. If anything, an indication comes from the cut currently present and bleeding on your forehead.”

“No, I’m going out. It’s fun and you can’t stop me! I’m always bored at the manor and I made a friend. I’m going to see her again.”

“Master Dick—“

“I'll keep doing it and you can’t stop me! I’ll run away!” Dick yelled.

Alfred sighed, then nodded and left the room. He came back a few minutes later and stuck a band-aid over the cut on his head, looking at it disapprovingly.

The next morning when Dick was shoveling cereal into his mouth, Bruce came to sit down. Dick immediately found himself straightening with respect and fear. In the circus, it was never like this. Never any quiet, silent times. There was always noise, laughter, light and fun. People chatting, bantering and arguing. Something was always happening, instead of this heavy doom and gloom going on. This of course changed when Bruce actually decided to talk to him, but he was usually to busy typing, always typing, on his laptop.

Dick looked down into his bowl, watching the bits of food sink under the milk. Waterlogged, just like all the fun in his life. He was disturbed from his own brooding when Bruce delicately coughed. His head shot up to look at the man sitting awkwardly on his seat, laptop no where in sight.

“I was thinking...”

Bruce trailed off and Dick raised an eyebrow, a trick he learned from Pop Haly. He tried again.

“I was thinking you might want to learn some self defense? I trained with some of the best when I was 18. Alfred suggested you might want to.”

Alfred stepped forward. “I merely thought it would be better if Master Dick knew how to defend himself in a place like Gotham. Especially since he is your ward, but also because anything could happen to him if he were alone at any given time.”

He gave a pointed look to a Dick at that, who sheepishly slumped down a bit in his chair. Bruce raised and eyebrow and looked between the both of them, obviously trying to figure out what was going on before giving up.

“So, do you want to, Dick?”

“Sure, I guess. It’s really boring around here and I have nothing to do.”

Bruce blinked in surprise. “You’re... bored?”

“Well yeah! There no toys, no people, no fun things.”

“I’ll see to that. For now, why don’t we get started on self defense?”

Dick and Bruce went out into the garden where Alfred had already put down training mats for them to start on. The next hour and a half was spent with Bruce teaching Dick basic fighting moves.

A week later, Dick was stretching in his room, cooling down from learning a new move when Alfred knocked on the door.

“You can come in!” He called.

With his clothes fresh and starched, Alfred eyed Dick’s bright multi-coloured shirt and grey track pants with a clear distaste, but didn’t bring up the fashion atrocity. He held out a bag to Dick. Dick tilted his head and pulled it open. Inside was his costume, freshly washed and bright in colour. It looked good as new. Dick hugged it to his chest only to find another bag being held out.

He carefully grabbed it from Alfred’s hands and zipped open. He was confused by the sight.

“...metal?”

Alfred sighed. “No, Kevlar. It a protective material and, I should hope, strong enough to look after you in your adventures throughout Gotham, since you have decided to ignore my advice.”

Ignoring Alfred’s jab at his choices, Dick pulled the pieces out in wonder and assembled them on his bed. It closely resembled his circus costume, a red breastplate and a yellow cape that reached his hips. There were green pants, he noticed. Probably better in the cold weather. A mask was at the top, black ovals and transparent white ones in the middle. His pixie boots had been upgraded to green boots and there was some kind of utility belt at his waist.

“It shall also do well in preserving your uniform from the circus. All of these materials are highly protective and equipped with pieces of tech. If you go into the utility belt, you will find harmless weapons to use. You are not to engage with anyone, unless they engage with you.”

Dick nodded and stared at the uniform with awe. “So I can wear this?”

He got his answer when Alfred nodded. He let out a shout a pleasure and pulled the man into a hug. Alfred looked down at the boy in surprise before gently hugging back. Dick then proceeded to shove the gear under his bed, away from the immediate line of sight.

“Promise you will not engage in dangerous activities?”

“I promise! Thanks Alfred.”

Later that night he carefully pulled on the armor. He didn’t know how Alfred knew his sizes, but it fit perfectly. He did some stretches in his room, trying to get used to the feel of it. It was heavier than he was used to. He wasn’t used to having a mask sticking into his face, but at least his identity would be protected.

He climbed back up onto the rooftop he had met Catwoman on last. He waited for what he thought was about a thousand hours (but in reality was probably only half and hour) before jumping onto the next building. He travelled through Gotham, watching the city at night.

It wasn’t the prettiest sight. Homeless people and street kids littered the place like ants, lots of them and everywhere. Drunk and high people stumbled around the dingy streets. He felt bile rise in his throat as he thought he saw someone _eating a_ _leg_.

He was interrupted from observing the city from a grunt. He looked down the alleyway opposite the building he was standing on and saw three men cornering another.

“Where’s the money, freak?” the smallest spat.

“I’m sorry, I-I don’t have i-it,” the victim whimpered.

Dick remembered promising Alfred not to do anything dangerous but he couldn’t just let this poor man get robbed. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind, he could deal with that later.

He hopped down from the building and climbed up the side of the other. Then he swung himself forward and smashed the biggest guy into the ground. Dick winced as the man’s head hit the wall and started bleeding before facing other two men. They both shouted in surprise as the victim watched in fear.

“Who are you?” snapped one.

“Yeah, get outta here, kid!”

“No!” he yelled and ducked a punch. They both got closer to him and a hit landed on his arm. He flipped forward but the smaller one caught his leg. He struggled wildly in the man’s grip. He tried to wriggle out, but the man grabbed his legs and held him up in the air.

“Hey boys,” a voice purred from up above Dick.

He squinted up as the man threw him onto the ground. He landed with shout the as a figure jumped down from the rooftop. Catwoman prowled forward and inspected to scene before her. She then tilted her head.

“You shouldn’t have messed with the kid.”

Then she was moving with feline like grace, the whip an extension of her body. Within seconds the two men were down on the ground, groaning in pain.

“You,” she said and looked to the victim then pointed out of the alleyway. “Get out of here. Now you, little kitten, follow me.”

They ended up on the same rooftop Dick had been waiting on.

“What were you doing?” She hissed. “You could have gotten badly hurt.”

“I had to help that person!”

“Not if it endangers you.”

“I couldn’t just leave them.”

Catwoman took one look at him and sighed. “I was like you, except I was the opposite. I was to stubborn to give up on the Gotham nightlife, but I took to stealing and crimes instead. And look where that got me. I’m just another costumed freak.”

“I’m not stopping,” Dick said determinedly.

Catwoman sighed. “I knew you were going to say that. Look, if you do come out at night wait here for me. And if I don’t show up, go home.”

Dick nodded enthusiastically.

Catwoman snorted. “And it’s nice you got a mask and pants, but did you really need such an upgrade on the costume?”

* * *

Dick had been Robin for over a year when he accidentally made his public debut.

Things had been going well. He patrolled with Catwoman twice a week (aka she led him around the city and hopped in when he needed help). He had gotten much better at self defense, which had turned into Bruce teaching Dick how to fight. He had also grown closer to the occupants of the house, growing used to the presence of Alfred and Bruce.

Bruce had been revealed as dumb but smart. He was incredibly perceptive and always knew if Dick had been swinging on a chandelier but never once suspected he was going out at night. Alfred may have had something to do with that though.

It was his first battle against one of Gotham’s big villains, Killer Croc. It didn’t last for long, and it was mostly Catwoman doing the work but it was enough times for the cops to get a glimpse of his bright uniform. They had no clue he existed before that, save for the traumatized words of criminals who had been defeated by a giggling child.

No one outside of Gotham would have heard it though. Reporters and news companies that covered places outside of Gotham never bothered to come back, there was always something happening in the city. Too much to report and people got bored of the drama over time

“Whatcha looking at, B?” Dick asked.

“Hmm? Oh, the cops say there’s a child on the streets fighting crime.”

Dick nodded, trying and failing to look uninterested.

“It says that he’s calling himself ‘Robin’.”

Dick jabbed his fork into the pancakes, they were soft and large, just the way he liked them. He had a small amount of homework waiting for him upstairs in his room. Maybe he could use that as an excuse to get out of there.

“If I knew who this was, I would sue their parents. No way would he be allowed to stay with whoever they are, it could even be considered abuse.”

Dick choked on his food, coughing loud and hard.

“Woah Dick, you okay there chum?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“...okay then.”

Bruce went back to reading the newspaper, before folding it in half and grabbing some pancakes.

“Though, a child doing that? I’ve been noticing rumors that have been going around for about a year. They say he’s a demon, or a vampire who will suck your blood. Some say he was summoned by Catwoman to do her dirty work for her. Whoever, or whatever it is, they would have to be skilled to fight crime in Gotham.”

Dick hid his smile behind by stuffing his face full of food but he could tell it was still showing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha im dying inside. This took a while to write and I kept on putting off. Also I hate editing. Why did I write so much. I was planning to write more, but then I decided fuck it I’m not doing one chapter per person they can have MULTIPLE. Though it’s basically going to be batchildren joining the fam and becoming vigilantes in one chapter, making friends in the next, then becoming their next identity. Who knows how much I’ll write I’ll probably be dead by then. 
> 
> Anyway my excuse for making Dick and Bruce have some major personality swings (if you noticed them. I did.) is Bruce just took in a child on impulse and probably has no idea how to deal with it. Dick lost his parents like two weeks ago (YES we’re not including him going to juvie for those of you who care) and is still dealing with it. Plus he’s like nine or whatever age you want him to be. I had Dick shoot Zucco bc that was what his original plan was, but no killing bc then he never wants to be like that man. Also Bruce was never there to peer pressure him into not shooting via ‘is this REALLY what you want?’
> 
> Next chapter is Dick making friends aka Wally.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick makes a friend, ft. Catmom Selina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for a shitty case.

There were rumours of a vampire in Gotham. If Wally lived in a normal world, one with no superheroes or villains beyond the everyday crimes, he wouldn’t have believed it. But as he did live in one, there was always a chance. 

It wore bright colours and traveled through darkness, the whisperings said. A young one, turned as a child. He had looked it up and there were very few articles of the goings on in Gotham. There was one released by the police, dated a couple years back about a child vigilante but Wally didn’t believe it.

He was going to find the vampire.

* * *

Dick gently dropped his head down onto the desk and stared blankly at the whiteboard. His teacher’s voice droned on in the background, but Dick wasn’t concentrating. This was so boring. Something to do with Shakespeare.

The bell rang and Dick jumped up from his desk.

“Make sure to complete your homework!” The teacher called after the surge of kids that trampled through the corridors. Dick felt a grin overtake his face. The next couple of weeks would be holidays.

He quickly went to his locker, grabbed his belongings and rushed out, the stampede of children and young adults carrying him along.

“Bye Dick!” A voice called to him. He swung around to see Babs waving at him, her bright red hair gleaming under the clouds that seemed brighter than usual.

“See ya Babs! I’ll talk to you later.”

She grinned and nodded at him. Dick turned back around to see a shiny Porsche waiting at the gates. It was one of Bruce’s favourites, as it was old, expensive and loud. He ran over to it and flung the door open, hopping onto the warm seats.

“How was your day, Dick?”

“It was good thanks! School’s finally out.”

Bruce chuckled. “Well how about we go get some ice cream to celebrate?”

“Yes!”

Bruce took them to their favourite shop and he ate the ice cream fast, the summer heat melting it quickly.

By the time it was time to patrol Dick had managed to break a window, stain one of the carpets with bright pink paint, fall off a tree twice and not do any of his holiday homework.

He was practically vibrating with excitement by the time he was out swinging around the streets. A little girl walking home with her mum looked up and saw him jumping over her head. A smile broke out on her face and she waved shyly. Dick cackled and waved back to her.

He blinked at the twinkling of lights turning on and off around the city. Almost like stars. A voice called from behind him. “Hello kitten, what are you up to tonight?”

“Schools out, so I can stay out for longer!” Dick said, turning around to grin at her.

“Well that’s nice,” Catwoman hummed. “But what are you going to do?”

“Whatever I need to do to help someone,” Dick shrugged.

Over the comms, Alfred spoke. “ _Master Robin, it appears we have a visitor in Gotham._ ”

“Huh,” Dick said, holding his fingers over the earpiece.

“ _Kid Flash has entered the city. It appears he is moving in a pattern and you should be able to cut him off if you make it to Crescent Avenue within the next 3 minutes_ ,” Alfred sighed.

Dick turned to look questioningly and Catwoman.

“Go,” she nodded. “I’ll follow after in case you need backup.”

Dick nodded and shot his grappling line onto the building across the street, slinging over as a car slowly pottered on underneath him. Definitely way under the speed limit.

He landed on top of the building at the corner of the Avenue, then made his way down the side of the building, minding the several pot plants alongside one of the resident’s windows. Then he submerged himself in the shadows.

He felt the air tense before he saw the lightning streaking up towards him. And wasn’t Dick glad he had gone right to the end of the street, a street that was very very long. Kid Flash obviously wasn’t going at his top speeds either.

He managed to sling his collapsible bo staff out just as the other boy ran past. The metal vibrated as the shape slammed into it, not expected to have been cut off. He was knocked to the ground. Kid Flash sat there wheezing, the staff having caught him right in the gut.

Dick rolled his eyes behind the mask and dragged the other boy into the alley.

“Hey!” Kid Flash spoke. “Who are you?”

“None of your business,” Dick replied, remembering the lectures given by both Alfred and Selina. Those were more about his civilian identity, but that didn’t mean he wanted other heroes interfering with his business.

“Why are you in Gotham?” He chirped.

“Why should I tell you? You’ve kidnapped me!”

 _Kidnapped him._ Dick cackled, the laugh resembling one of the evil characters in children movies. It resonated around the space, and Kid Flash looked creeped out by it.

“What are you? Are you the vampire?” Kid Flash asked.

“Vampire?” Dick laughed harder. “I’m not a vampire!”

“Prove it!”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know any vampires.”

“Well, my neck hadn’t been bitten,” he said, craning his neck out for Kid Flash to inspect.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t a vampire though. But if you aren’t, then what are you?” The other boy asked once satisfied.

“I’m Robin,” He replied.

“You’re . . . a bird?”

Dick paused to think. “I guess. But you still haven’t answered. What are you doing in Gotham?”

His face turned suspicious and Kid Flash looked vaguely scared.

“Because there were rumors of a vampire and I came to check.”

Dick snorted. “It’s me they think is the vampire. I’m just a vigilante.”

“How?”

“Huh? How what?”

“How did you-“ Kid Flash was cut off by Dick raising a hand, gesturing for him to stop speaking.

“ _Master Robin, I have discovered reports of a homicide. I am sending the coordinates to you now._ ”

Dick nodded and turned his attention back to Kid Flash. “I have to go.”

“Wait, where? Is it to do bad things?”

“I’m not bad, I literally just told you I’m a vigilante. I’m going to investigate a murder. Come if you want to, but be discreet.”

He took a few steps back, before propelling himself up the side of the building and climbing the rest of the distance left to the roof. Quickly he made his way over the rooftops to one of the worse parts of Gotham. Not to say most of Gotham wasn’t bad, but this was a particularly dingy place. In his peripherals, he saw Kid Flash carefully following him underneath.

He noticed the shadows seem to move as he arrived at the crime scene, Catwoman’s way of letting him know she was there. The crime scene was completely unguarded, only yellow warning tape. Dick ignored it and hopped over it, making his way into the house.

“Who was murdered?” Dick asked Alfred.

“ _Judy and Derek Hopkins. Parents of a thirteen year old girl, both of them worked at the local butcher’s shop. Clean records, no known underground interactions. Each died with a slit throat, and no one was seen entering or exiting the house. Police have put the case aside as there are no leads._ ” Alfred informed him.

“Who are you talking to?” Kid Flash asked from right behind him.

“No one you need to know. Two parents were murdered here, and there are no suspects.”

Kid Flash paled. “Two people were murdered? Just like that?”

“That’s Gotham for you. This is a pretty average day. Well, a pretty average night.”

“And what are you doing?”

“I’m going to solve the case,” Dick said, turning to look at him before bounding up the stairs. “A, where were they murdered?”

“ _Judy in her bedroom, and Derek in his. They slept in separate ones as ‘Derek snored.’”_

Dick peeked into one of the rooms. It was a plain white. The bed sheets were slightly crumpled, as if someone had rolled over. A large patch of dried blood pooled out from just below the pillow. It was the exact same in the other bedroom. Dick opened the door to the last room on the second floor to find more white walls, but the décor mostly shades of purple and green. Francesca, the name on the wall in loopy writing read.

“Their daughter’s room,” he mused to himself.

“Huh?”

Dick blinked, momentarily surprised having forgotten Kid Flash was there.

“Francesca Hopkins, daughter of the couple. A, do you have any information on her?”

For around thirty seconds there was silence, save for the clacking of fingers typing on a keyboard before Alfred spoke.

“ _Francesca, 13 years old. She attends Gotham City Public Highschool. Good grades, plenty of friends. She was home sleeping during the murder and didn’t realize what was happening. She was the one who called the police._ ”

“Would it be worth it talking to her?”

“ _The police got nothing from her, but she may be more loose lipped around someone of her own age_.”

“So yes.”

“Yes what? Who are you taking to? What are you talking about?”

Dick made it clear he was rolling his eyes under the mask. “Agent A. He does research stuff and gives advice. I’m going to go talk to Francesca. Come if you want but be quiet.”

“The daughter? You think she’ll have information?”

“Maybe, we’ll see. Now, are you coming or do you want to leave?”

“No, I’ll come!”

Dick followed Alfred’s directions, taking him to the foster house Francesca had been situated in. He pulled open the window and carefully hopped into the bedroom. It was clean and impersonalized, the girl having only moved in a day ago.

She rolled over in her sleep and let out a mumble. Dick carefully moved across the room and gently rolled her shoulder a little. Francesca didn’t wake up. He shook her a little harder and she blearily opened her eyes.

“Who are you?” She croaked.

“I’m Robin.”

Her eyes lit up with recognition and she sat up in bed, pulling her sheets up to her chest.

“You’re the one who protects our city,” she whispered.

Dick nodded. “Yep, that’s me. Would you mind if I asked you some questions about your parents?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “I can tell you what I told the police?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“Well, I went to bed. I slept well and nothing woke me up. But when I did wake up, later in the morning, my parents were dead. Their throats were slit open. A knife did it. I called the police and an ambulance but they were a few hours too late. _I_ was a few hours to late.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Kid Flash said gently.

“Yeah it was! If I hadn’t gone to sleep I could have saved them. It was my fault.”

“No, it was your killer’s fault. I promise we’ll find out who.”

Francesca eyed them. “You promise?”

“Of course,” Robin confirmed.

She nodded and watched them leave through the window before rolling back over in her bed.

* * *

Dick sat atop the building. The case had him stumped. A day later, and he had gotten no further. Kid Flash had insisted on helping with the crime. He hadn’t stuck around in Gotham, going back to Central but said he would think about the case.

Francesca had said that she had been sleeping. That when she woke up her parents were dead. That a knife has killed them.

_That a knife had killed them._

Never once in the GPCD report had it said a knife had killed them. It even specifically said that they hadn’t confirmed the murder weapon. The question was, how did Francesca know?

There was a disturbance in the air and a crackle of lightning as Kid Flash appeared next to him.

“Hello,” he greeted him with, not even blinking in surprise at his sudden appearance.

“Hey. Got anything on the case yet?”

“I think I might know who did it.”

“Yeah, who?”

“Francesca.”

“Did you just say Francesca?” Kid Flash asked. 

“Yep.” 

“Why would you say that?!”

“Think about it. She said it was a knife that slit their throats, but in the official report by the police, it said they couldn’t find the murder weapon.”

“But. . . she’s just a kid.”

“KF, we’re just kids. We go out and fight villains nightly, what’s to stop her from becoming one?”

“Um, she was nice?”

“And how do you know that for a fact?”

“. . . I don’t.”

“Exactly. I’m going to go talk to her again.”

He traveled through the city, making it to the foster house in a record breaking 15 minutes. When he opened Francesca’s room window she was once again asleep, her hair splayed out around her head like rays from the sun. Little blonde frizzy locks made their way in wisps across her eyes as she sat up to look at him.

“Hello? Oh, it’s you again,” she yawned, rubbing fists across her eyes.

This time Dick didn’t stop for a smile. “Did you kill your parents?”

Francesca nearly choked on air. “I- what?”

“You heard me. Did you kill your parents?”

“I- no! I didn’t kill my parents.”

“How did you know it was a knife that killed them then? It could’ve been anything but you said knife.” He pressed.

“I- I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. You said the last time we spoke. That it was knife that killed them, even though the GPCD said they couldn’t find the murder weapon.”

At that her whole face changed. Instead of indignant, her pale cheeks became tinged red and her eyes glistened with fear, guilt and even embarrassment. “Okay fine! Was that what you wanted to hear? I killed my parents?”

“Why?” Dick asked in horror.

“Because they were bad. Not in the physical abuse kind of way, but different. My momma, she forced me on diets, starved me. Said I had to be a pretty girl, a prized jewel for possible lovers. And poppa used to always go out drinking. Never came home until he did and then he shouted mean things at me,” she paused to take a deep breath.

“And I loved them, I did. But there was also this feeling. Or rather, a not-feeling. Whenever I felt something, it was just numbed down. I didn’t get majorly sad or hurt of happy. Just glimpses of emotions. I thought maybe, that if they were gone I would feel properly,” she said fiddling with the edges of her t-shirt.

“And did it let you feel properly?” Dick asked, his voice tense.

“No.”

Dick felt bile rising in his throat. “How’d you do it?”

“Pardon?”   


“How’d you kill them?”

“I slit their throats with a knife. It was easy enough, they didn’t suspect a thing. I was their perfect little girl. I just washed the knife a couple of times over and put it back in the drawer when I was done,” she shrugged.

“I’m turning you in,” Dick said firmly.

“What? No you can’t do that. Please, you can’t.”

“I have to. You killed your parents.”

“You don’t have proof!”

“Wrong,” Dick corrected. “This whole conversation’s been recorded.”

“What? How?”

Dick pulled the device out from a pocket in his utility belt. She stared at it in horror and Dick took the time to handcuff her to the rusty railing on her bed head.

“You can’t do this!”

“I already am.”

On his way over to the GPCD, Dick thought about the case. He wondered why anyone would want to kill their parents. Why anyone would want to be an orphan. Some people just didn’t realize what they had until they lost it, just like he hadn’t.

He pulled open the window to the commissioner’s office and placed the recording device on his desk. Then he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and scribbled down _‘Evidence that Francesca Hopkins murdered her parents. - Robin.’_

Dick felt sick in the stomach. He had come across causes far more gruesome, but for a person to kill their parents on purpose, that was horrifying. Especially for him, an orphan.

He mindlessly swung through the city. His parents had died. He would do anything to get them back, and this girl had just killed hers, traded them like they were toys. Not even for a good reason.

“Hello Kitten, what’s gotten you all wound up?” Catwoman’s voice came from behind him.

He tried to steel his face and turned to greet her. “Hey. It was nothing.”

“Come on Kitten, talk to me.”

“Y’know the case Alfred gave me the other day?”

Catwoman nodded. “Yeah I remember. Does it have something to do with your mood?”

“It was. . . um it was their daughter who killed them. She killed her parents.”

Selina tilted her head.

“I-I just don’t get it. Why would anyone want to loose their parents? Why would anyone want to be an orphan. She just killed-” he stopped to let out a dry sob.

“Oh, Dick,” Selina breathed and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and squished his face into her neck. It had been a very long time since he had had an all encompassing hugs. Ones where the hugger held you safe, tight and you could completely relax in their arms. Ones that squeezed you and you didn’t have to speak to communicate.

He let his head rest against Selina’s collar bone. “I miss them so much, Selina,” He whispered.

“I know, Dick. I know.” She murmured. Once she let him go, he stood back and wiped his eyes from the tears that had been gathering.

“Can we go fight some bad guys?” He asked slowly.

She grinned at him. “Let’s do it.”

Together they swept through the city, Selina joining in with the fighting. They stopped a robbery (which had made Catwoman laugh, her being Catwoman and all), as well as an attempted mugging when Kid Flash sped straight to them.

“There you are!” He called out. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Dick asked. “Why?”

“Because you were right. I went to Francesca’s place and the police were there!”

Dick sighed in relief. “That’s because I gave them evidence. I accused her and she told me she did it.”

“So you were right and I was wrong.”

Dick nodded.

“Sorry if I was a bit rude about it,” Kid Flash awkwardly rubbed his neck. “I’m just not used to this sorta dark stuff.”

Dick smiled. “Nah, it’s fine. We’re cool.”

“SoIwaswonderingifyouwantedtopatroltogetheragainsometime?” He blurted.

Dick blinked slowly. “I got literally none of that.”

Kid Flash blushed slightly. “Do you want to patrol together again some time?”

A grin overtook Dick’s face. “Sure!”

“Robin! Agent A just called in with a mugging,” Catwoman’s voice called in from over the roof.

“Who’s that?” Kid Flash asked, startled.

“My sort of mentor, Catwoman.”

“But. . . isn’t she bad?”

“Depends,” Dick smirked. “I gotta go though.”

He grappled you to the rooftop and gave Kid Flash a wave. “See ya KF.”

“Bye, Robin!” Kid Flash waved back.

* * *

Wally may not have found any vampires in Gotham, but he did make a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I told you it would be bad. Tell me if there’s any mistakes because I typed this on my phone which is really annoying and I’m pretty sure I missed something but idk what.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Bruce have The Fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be a chaos chapter with Roy and Wally, buuuuut my brain wasn't flowing with it so I put it to the side. I'm thinking of doing a oneshot book after this so it'll go there if it happens. Thanks Kuroaki for helping me with creating a timeline! That was a rather long conversation.

His shoulder ached. Fresh waves of pain rippled through him as he tried to maneuver himself in through his window, causing nausea to roll around his head. Black spots danced across his vision as he tried to stand still. The wound in his shoulder bled profusely, splattering blood on the ground.

Another wave of hurt throbbed through him as he tried to reach up to unclasp his cape. Shit, not that arm. Dick panted short breaths as the black spots got larger. They were starting to overwhelm his vision.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. “Dammit.”

He tried to stand up, but his legs started shaking under his weight. Was it bad that he was loosing so much blood? Yeah, Dick thought it was bad.

He felt more than saw his vision black out, but not before hearing a faint call of “Dick!”

* * *

Everything was blurry. Bruce gently brushed his forehead. Nothing.

* * *

Alfred looked over him, worried face. Nothing.

* * *

Bruce held his hand gently. He tried to grasp back, only managing to make his fingers twitch. Nothing.

* * *

Dick carefully blinked awake. He was in his room. A barely there throb was pulsating from his shoulder, but Dick hardly noticed it. He opened his mouth, only for coughs to overtake his voice.

Bruce shot up from where the top half of his body had been lying on Dick’s bed, the rest of it seated on a chair.

“Dick! Thank god. Here, drink this,” Bruce said, stumbling out of the room. He came back a couple of seconds later, holding a glass of water. Gently, he rested it against Dick’s lips. The water was a bit warmer than Dick’s liking, but it served its purpose of refreshing his throat.

“Bruce?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yeah chum, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

Bruce chuckled at the statement.

“Well, you did get shot in the shoulder.” Bruce’s expression suddenly turned to a frown. “Speaking about that—”

Like magic Alfred appeared at the door, cutting Bruce off. “I believe now is not the correct time to discuss that, Master Bruce. Master Dick needs his rest.”

Bruce gave a look of confliction before nodding. Dick sighed and leaned back into the pile of pillows behind him.

“Get some rest, Master Dick.”

* * *

The yells coming from the other room were what woke Dick up. His opened his eyes blearily, hearing Bruce’s voice. He was angry. He stumbled out of bed. The wound on his shoulder had been healing quickly over the past month, but Alfred still had him on painkillers.

Dick peered through the open doorway into the living room. Bruce was in there. Shouting at Alfred. _Shouting at Alfred._

“How could you let him do that?!” Words ripped out of Bruce’s mouth like fire.

“Bruce?” Dick called out hoarsely. “Why are you yelling at Alfie?”

Bruce turned to look at Dick with surprise. “What are you doing up?”

“You woke me up. Why are you yelling at Alfred?” He asked again, this time firmer.

“Why did you become Robin?” Bruce asked instead.

Oh.

“It’s was sort of an accident,” Dick shrugged.

“An accident?” Bruce repeated. His voice was near hysterical and Dick was afraid Bruce was going to have an aneurysm. “You _accidentally_ got this costume, you _accidentally_ chose a name, you _accidentally_ snuck out to fight crime?!”

“Masters, if I may—“ Alfred tried to cut in but was ignored.

“It wasn’t like that! I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to go become a superhero!”

“A superhero? Dick, you aren’t even old enough to drink!” Bruce spat

“I do good! I help people! I save them!”

“You don’t need to be running around in spandex in the middle of the night to do that.”

“I knew what I was doing.” Dick shot back.

“You’re just a kid, you don’t understand.”

“And you do?” Venom spilled out of his mouth and dripped down his tongue. He and Bruce had had their fair share of fights before, but never as deep as this one. “You understand what it’s like to be left alone when your parents have died?! To be taken in by someone you don’t know and have to leave your old life behind?! And then for the one who took you in to constantly be busy and never be able to look after you?! Because it hurts Bruce. It hurts.”

A river of emotion flowed through Bruce’s face, each feeling passing before Dick could get a proper read on it. A tidal wave of guilt immediately surged up inside him, washing away the other negative feelings he was harboring. Before he could start to apologize or start to dispute his previous words, Bruce’s face steeled and he spoke. “You have to choose. Robin or us.”

“I- what? What do you mean?”

“Either you stay with me and give up Robin, or you keep Robin and go.”

“I can’t choose between that!”

Bruce’s face looked carved from stone, but Dick caught the glimmer of grief in his eyes. “You have to. I can’t know you’re out there risking yourself while you’re under my protection.”

“I can’t give up Robin. It’s one of the only things left of my parents.”

“And I can’t have your death on my hands.”

“I’m not going to die so, stop saying that!”

“ _But you might!_ ” Bruce roared.

“ _I’m not leaving my parents behind!_ ” Dick yelled, equally loud. He couldn’t even remember their faces. He had to look at photos, only for their looks to immediately disperse. Robin was all he had left. “I’m not giving up Robin.”

“Well I’m sorry, but you have to. I’m keeping your costume.”

Dick felt knives stab through his heart. Something lumped up in his throat. Bruce wouldn’t give back his uniform. He turned and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him, shutting him off from Bruce. Cutting off his relationship with Bruce.

He had to leave. He couldn’t stay here while Bruce had Robin. It was unfair. Tears welled up behind his eyes and he scrubbed at them.

If he couldn’t stay there, where would he go? He couldn’t stay with Wally or Roy. He didn’t want to burden them. Selina was out of the question. He had no where.

Unless. . .

* * *

_One year previously_

Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and tinted his view as Dick leaned back in his chair. “You’re the one who wanted to meet me here?” He asked and narrowed his eyes.

The woman had strode into the rundown café a couple of minutes before. She had gone to the counter, an aura of powerfulness surrounding her. She was intimidating. Then, she had gone and sat down opposite Dick.

Dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulder, contrasting her light blue dress shirt.

“Yes,” she said primly.

“So you wanna tell me why or...”

“I am Talia Al Ghul.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“It depends on who you are. If you were Richard Grayson, I would simply be an old lover of your guardian. If you were Robin, I would be the daughter of the Demon’s Head. The daughter of the leader of the League of Assassins.”

Dick stiffened and sat up. “What do you mean Robin?”

“Please, do not play dumb with me, Richard,” she said, flicking her hand dismissively. “I am well aware of your nightly activities.”

“So what do you want?” Dick growled. “To threaten me? To kill me? I’ve heard about the League.”

“I would be surprised if you hadn’t. No, I am not here to kill you.”

“Then what for?”

“To offer you an apprenticeship in the League.”

This caught his curiosity. “You want me to join the League of Assassins?” He asked disbelievingly.

“Not quite. We would teach you to fight, and then if deemed skilled enough you would join us.”

“You mean you want me to become an assassin.”

“Only if you decide to,” she said simply.

“Why me? There are probably so many people you could choose from. How did you even find out about me?”

“I have my sources. And not everyone can go out and fight crime in Gotham.”

He thought about it for a couple of seconds. 

“I can’t. I can’t just leave Bruce and Alfred. And I have to look after Gotham. Plus I don’t exactly want to become an assassin,” he said firmly.

Talia nodded and put a slip of paper down on the table. “Very well then. A place will be open for you, should you change your mind. Just call that number.”

She made to stand up from the table, but was stopped when Dick called out. “Wait, did you say Bruce and you were together?”

Talia smirked at him and left the café.

* * *

Dick pulled his phone out of the phone case, and a piece of paper lay there. He looked down at the numbers scrawled onto it, before coming to a decision.

He punched in the numbers.

After three rings, the phone picked up.

“Hello?” He asked cautiously.

“ _Hello Richard,_ ” Talia’s smooth voice filtered through.

“I want to take you up on your offer. I’ll do the apprenticeship.”

“ _A good choice._ ”

“But I have conditions.”

“ _And those would be?_ ”

“I don’t have kill anyone and I can leave when I want, with no consequences.”

There was a silence before Talia spoke again. “ _That can be arranged. I will send a plane for you. Be ready to leave Gotham airport in 2 hours.”_

“Just like that?”

“ _Yes. I shall see you then, Richard.”_

“See you, T.”

A noise of distaste came from the other side of the phone. “ _I do not appreciate nicknames,_ ” she spat.

Dick smiled, some of the negative feelings from his fight with Bruce becoming weaker. “Whatever you say, T.”

It probably wasn’t wise, teasing such a powerful assassin but Dick couldn’t resist. A huff came through the phone before she hung up on him. Looked like Dick was going to become an assassin’s apprentice.

He pulled the duffel bag out of his closet. What would he need? He chucked in a couple pairs of clothes, before carefully putting a picture of his parents in a side pocket. He debated with himself before relenting and putting in a picture of Alfred, Babs, him and Bruce.

Behind him there was a cough, and Dick turned to see Alfred at the door. “I am afraid Master Bruce was a bit... over the top. It is understandable though.”

Dick glowered. He didn’t want to think about the fight. “Can we not do this right now, Alfie? Please?”

Alfred nodded. “Why are you packing a bag?”

“I’m leaving.”

Alfred’s face didn’t change, but Dick knew him long enough to know that he was confused and upset. “If you don’t mind explaining, what do you mean leaving?”

“Sorry Alfred, I’m going. Someone’s offered to train me and I can’t stay here with Bruce. Not after he took Robin.”

Alfred sighed. “And I cannot change your mind?”

“No,” Dick said firmly.

Alfred strode into the room. “Well, then at least let me help you pack.”

“Yeah, I think I need a little help,” Dick said scratching the back on his neck.

Alfred was amazing at tidying. By the end of half an hour, his necessary belongings were folded up and placed neatly in his bag. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“Anytime, Master Dick.” The man placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Your parents would have been proud of you.”

Dick felt a lump well up in his throat. “Thanks, Alfie.”

Alfred nodded at him before leaving the room.

Dick sighed before picking up the bag. He walked down to the front steps of the manor, before sitting on them and waiting for the taxi. It took only te. minutes before the cab pulled up.

“Where are you going?” Bruce stopped behind him.

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

Dick turned and gave him a tired look. “Why do you think?”

Bruce fidgeted with his fingers, but didn’t say anything. Dick could read it in his body language. Bruce wanted him to stay, wanted to show he was sorry. Dick knew how to read Bruce, but sometimes he just wanted the man to say what he was thinking. He wanted to _hear_ it.

Bruce didn’t say anything.

Dick left.

* * *

He stood at the doors to the airport, wondering what he was supposed to do. A large crowd surged through the doors and multiple people bumped into Dick. He caught something as it fluttered to the floor.

“Hey!” He called to the crowd. “Someone dropped their... ticket.”

The name on the ticket read Dick Grayson. “Oh.”

He checked in and put his bag through the bag check. The whole airport was busy. Everyone was trying to get out of Gotham, he supposed. He made his way down to Gate 21. It was empty. Dick peered down at the ticket again. Sure enough, it said Gate 21.

Out of a side door stepped a flight attendant. “Mister Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Miss Head is waiting for you on the plane.” She checked his boarding ticket, then pointed him to the path he had to travel down. It was long and windy, tousling his hair and clothes. At the end of the jetway, was a rather large and fancy plane. It resembled one of Bruce’s private planes.

Inside, there were sixteen large comfortable chairs and lots of free space for movement. Dick blinked as he realized there were no seatbelts. Sitting in one of the chairs, right at the back, was Talia. Dick went and sat down across from her. “Um. Hi.”

She flipped down the magazine she had been reading.

“Finally, Richard.” She drawled. “You are late.”

Dick frowned and looked at his watch. “Actually I think I’m early.”

She gave him a look. “Rule number one. Always be early. That way you can search for possible threats.”

“But what if there aren’t any?”

“Much to learn, I see. Relax, as the ride to my base should take approximately 14 hours.”

“14 hours?! Do you have some sort of magic teleporter you used to get here?”

Talia scoffed. “Of course not. I happened to be in the area and was planning on leaving soon anyway. I have some... duties to tend to in Tibet.”

“Tibet? Is that where we’re going?”

“No.”

“Then—“

“Rule number two,” she said. Cutting him off. “Do not ask questions. Do as you are instructed and that only.”

Dick paused, then nodded.

“Now, some crucial information for your training. First, I am only your overseer. I will not be training you, simply monitoring your progress and deciding what you need to improve in. That also includes testing you.”

“Testing me?” Dick frowned. He was already missing Gotham. The roar of the plane was dulling his hearing, and his ears still hadn’t popped. His wounded shoulder gave a sharp pang.

“Yes. Once your trainer believes you to have accomplished your skill, then I shall test you. Second, you are here because I wished it. Do not anger anyone, or it reflects negatively on both myself and you. Do not try reason with my grandfather. He will kill you.”

“Okay. You’re not actually my trainer and don’t mess with Ra’s. I can do that.”

“It will be much harder than that, but yes.”

“Wait, but if you’re not training me, then who is?”

“A few different people. Shrike, Lady Shiva, some others.”

“Oh. Okay.” Talia flicked the magazine back up and Dick took that as his cue to shut up.

Lady Shiva. Shrike. He’d heard about them. Not good things. This would be interesting.

He managed to fall asleep halfway through the plane ride, his mind utterly bored. His dreams entailed of Bruce becoming the grandfather clock from Beauty and the Beast, then chasing him around until Alfred the Teapot sprayed tea all over his face. Then Talia the Wardrobe came and drowned him in clothes.

When he woke up with a jolt and checking that he wasn’t breathing fabric, they were slowly descending.

He could see a large expanse of trees and a deep river. They were above an island surrounded by the glittering ocean. Two large volcanoes stood in the center of the land mass.

“Wow,” he breathed. He’d never understood the saying ‘a sight to behold,’ but he did now.

The plane landed and the door opened. Immediately he was hit by a blast of hot, humid air. He could tell he had already started sweating. Much warmer than Gotham. The air seemed thick to breath. The clearing was surrounded by bright trees, in the middle of which there was a pathway leading down to a building. It looked simple, inconspicuous. He supposed so no one would question it.

Talia strode out of the plane, brushing past him. “Welcome to Infinity Island, Richard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. Also, I'm very bad at writing fights. Damian is currently at the Nanda Parbat, which all of my research says is in Tibet, which was why Talia was going there. Next up is Cass!!

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll probably update this once a fortnight, maybe more or less we’ll see. Just whenever I finish a chapter. I was planning on never writing a multichap story and now I know why. Tell me if there’s anything you want me to include, I love suggestions! Prompts/ requests open! 
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr @[thesporklecat](https://thesporklecat.tumblr.com/)


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